


âme soeur

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:49:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thoughts of previous ridicule and bullying about his multiple soul marks haunt him, but he thinks this new town will turn out to be different, and he might even be accepted here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have quite a bit of explaining to do. You can skip over this if you would like, but if I hear you comment about any of the things I mention in here, I won't be happy. Anyway, I have not been part of the RT fandom for too long. I do not know many things about them. I have done my research, and I have tried my hardest, but please forgive me. Forgive my mistakes, because I'm not perfect. Everything will not be going in order on how it did in real life, i apologize.  
> -  
> My look on the soulmate AU involves puberty. Again, I haven't been into this AU forever, so I don't know much. I kind of just went with what my gut told me. The marks are just the letter of their first name. They show up in nearly random spots. Everyone gets their mark at around the start of puberty, in my world. Michael just thinks he's a late bloomer.  
> Anyways, Michael's the youngest in this story. So. Yeah.  
> I feel like it's really confusing. All my thoughts are jumbled in my head. I hope I portrayed them in a good way.  
> -  
> EDIT:  
> As of June 20, 2014 at 8:53 PM this story is discontinued. I cannot write this on my own (my schoolmate is quite the helper when it comes to ideas) and I do not want anyone to be waiting for this. I may come back to this, but there is no promises.

Michael Jones is four, standing in front of the mirror nude and searching desperately for any signs of marks.  
When his mother walks in, he gets scolded for his indecency. She grabs him by the hand and he tries to whine but she just yells at him. No matter how many times he says "but my mark" doesn't phase her, she just drags him away from the mirror and forces him into clothes.

When he's seven, he gets in a fight with another boy on the playground who calls him stupid for thinking he'll have a mark . Michael knocks him to the ground and shouts at him, but he asks him mother what the boy meant when he gets home. She's distracted by gathering stuff for lunch and she gives him a sharp, "I'll tell you when you're older." And he wants to complain, but she's giving him a sandwich and he's appeased for now. 

The next time he makes a big deal about his mark is when he's eleven. The kids who normally bully him shove him up against his metal locker and he cries out when his elbow hits the metal hard.  
The biggest kid pulls out a marker and he goes crossed eyed to watch its descent upon his forehead. They all laugh and Michael is able to push himself away, and he runs to the bathroom before anybody else can laugh at him.  
He sees himself in the mirror, eyes watery and cheeks flushed. On his forehead is a messy written _M_ and he's angry, embarrassed and doesn't know what to do, so he cries.  
Michael scrubs the marker from his forehead, altogether hating his life and his mate, because why aren't they here yet?

It's Michael's thirteenth birthday and he's sitting comfortably with his head in his friend, Lindsay's lap, and they're both playing video games and yelling. He flops off the couch as he loses again, huffing at her playful glare. Suddenly, there's a jolt of pain that goes through his leg and he almost falls to his knees. There's only one thing he can think of and his eyes widen.  
"Michael?" She asks, getting up and wrapping an arm around him to keep him up.  
"My mark," His voice is reverent and she's getting excited, almost more so than him. She practically drags him to her bedroom, where there's a full length mirror.  
Lindsay demands that he show her, and Michael takes a deep breath, ready to yell at her but he has no time. Her hand, her marked hand -- he can see it from here, is reaching down and she practically yanks his belt off. "Take them off! I want to see." Instead of yelling, he does as commanded and lets his pants slip to his ankles. He's embarrassed that she's seeing him in his underwear, but he's even more humiliated at the sound of appreciation that comes from his mouth.  
He runs his finger over the ragged skin, falling in love with the reddened flesh that raised up in a _G_. 

It's all great, up until the point that he gets his second mark. He's fourteen now, turned it a month earlier. This one is on his hand, the back of it, and it's painfully obvious. The fingers of his left hand shake as he brushes the _R_. Lindsay doesn't know why the loud boy has suddenly gone quiet, so she looks over and sees the mark.  
"But, you have one." She says, and Michael does yell at her this time.  
"Don't you think I know that?!" He snaps at her, before going quiet as his voice attracts the attention of other's. Michael feels a little bad at yelling for her, so he quiet downs in favor of running his finger over the little mark.  
He loves it just as much as the first mark, and he doesn't know how. Michael hasn't loved anyone, not his parents, not his friends, and now… he's in love with a fantasy, with two mates that he has never seen or heard from.

One year later, Michael's parents decide that they need to move, to get away from his bullying. He now had three marks, a _J_ added into the mix of raised flesh that meant so much to him. He's going to Austin, Texas, and he's absolutely miserable about it. He makes sure to remind his parents as much as he can on the plane ride there.  
When they touch down at their destination, he whines about the heat, but it's a good feeling. When they arrive at their living place, he's happily surprised to find that it's bigger than he expected. He gets inside, lets his parents lead him to his room, and then leaves him to unpack.  
Michael finishes quickly, and he settles down on his unmade bed. There's a window above it, and he peeks out it. It leads right out so he has a great view into the neighbor's backyard. Two men are out there, speaking and laughing, and Michael watches as a third join them. For some reason he has a good feeling about the three, but he doesn't say anything.  
He rolls over so he can lay back on the bed, head resting on the uncovered pillows. The thoughts of previous ridicule and bullying haunt him, but he thinks this new town will turn out to be different, and he might even be accepted here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael meets the men he's been not-stalking for the past week. He finds himself frustrated with the turnout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that soul mates are connected physically - they share injuries and pain. But it only happens when they're close to each other. Almost as if a sign from fate that their mate is near. That's why none of them get affected by Gavin injuries. Because they aren't near. Same with the marks. None of them have Gavin's mark, because he isn't near them.  
> Anyways, enjoy.  
> Sorry it took so long.

It's only been a week that he's been in Austin when Michael meets his soul mates for the first time. It starts out when his mother and he are in the kitchen. She's making them dinner and he's shuffling idly through the mail. He notices one addressed to a _Geoff Ramsey_ , and the name sends a shudder through him and a pleasant tingle to his right thigh. 

"-the mail." Is all he hears, and he has the decency to act shameful about not listening to his mother.  
"What?"

"We got the neighbor's mail," She says, pointing to the mail that Michael had been shuffling through. "Go over there and take it to them."

Michael does as he's told, even though he's kind of tingling all over, and he's not sure if it's a pleasant feeling or not. He's practically been stalking these three guys for the past seven days, it makes him feel slightly guilty, and _how have they not noticed_.

But he goes, because he'll be yelled at by his mother if he doesn't. He gets to their yard, and finds that they're not out like usual. Apparently fate wasn't going to give him that reprieve. 

His descent over the driveway is slow, trying to put off the meeting that was certain to happen sometime soon. When he gets to the front door, he raises his fist to knock. 

He drops it.

Then raises it again, rapping his knuckles against the door three times, before his arm went limp by his side. 

The door opened a few seconds afterwards, one man standing in the entrance. Michael leans slightly to the side, trying to see more, but the man blocks him.

The redhead looks down at his mail, pretending to check the name on it. But he remembered it. It was practically burned into his mind. "Is Geoff there?" He asked, once again leaning to see past, but he is once again blocked. "I have his mail."

"That's me." The man - Geoff - says firmly, tattooed arms uncrossing so he reach for the packages in the younger male's hands. Their hands brush as Geoff grabs it, but the warm feeling disappears as Michael feels the paper slide _just so and great!_ now he has a paper cut. 

"Shit," He murmurs to himself, nursing the injury between his fingers. Geoff watches him for a few seconds, but doesn't say anything, and then he's closing the door without a thank you or goodbye. 

Michael's too engrossed in his own injury to notice the red cut between the older male's fingers.

When he recovers himself, Michael looks up to the closed door with a grimace. "Asshole," he snarls. He reaches out a second time, but he's more confident in his anger. He knocks hard four times, and he doesn't have time to drop his fist before Geoff is pulling open the door. 

"You didn't say thank you." 

It felt like hours that he stood there, Geoff staring at him with narrowed eyes. It was probably only a minute, though, before someone came to stand behind the tattooed man. 

"Who is this?" The bearded man shuffles around Geoff, stepping outside the house and towards Michael. His voice gives him a good feeling in his stomach, and he feels his earlier anger almost melting away. "Who are you?"

Had he not wanted to look insane, Michael would have shook his head. He couldn't let his anger seep away this easily, he still had someone to deal with. After another minute of silence on his part, his mind finally processes the questions. 

"I'm, uh, I'm Michael. I live next door, I was just dropping off the mail." Suddenly feeling embarrassed that he bothered the two men about something as minimal as no thank you, Michael takes a step back and looks down at his feet. "I was just leaving, actually." He doesn't actually wait to hear a response, instead just turning on his heel and practically running away. 

-

Geoff watches to confirm that the boy makes it all the way inside his house before he turns to Jack. "Him." He mumbles, and he doesn't even have to explain, because Jack understands what he means. 

"He's one of them? Are you sure?" They close the door behind them, the conversation feeling a little too private to speak about anywhere but inside. Ryan, their other roommate, looks at them from where he's standing in the kitchen, suddenly interested in their conversation.

"None of us got hurt. I saw him get the cut." Geoff says it in such a tone that he's not up for more questions. He's moving away from Jack, towards the kitchen so he can grab a beer. He's passes Ryan, and he's only a few steps from their bedroom when said man speaks up. 

"And you didn't invite him in? You just let him leave?" His voice is hard to read, but they both know him well enough to know he's a bit more frustrated than before. But Geoff just leaves him without an answer, and he lets him this time. He goes back to cooking the gents dinner, with only a soft sigh and a shared eye roll with Jack. 

-

Michael slams the door to his house, feeling utterly upset with himself. Not only did he make a bad first impression, but the man he happened to be obsessed with was a huge jerk. He completely ignored his mom, making sure to storm as loudly as he could up the stairs. 

He considers throwing a few good punches at his wall to rid himself of his frustration, but he ends up curled in his sheets, face tucked into his pillow. He doesn't let himself cry, but he does scream, yells profanities that make his Jersey accent completely too obvious. In a cruel sort of way, he hopes that his neighbors hear and that it disrupts whatever they're doing. 

It took him a few minutes to sufficiently yell out all of his anger, but he felt better after he was finished.

Michael stayed in the position, curled up on his bed. When his mom came in to check in on him, he feigned sleep as to not be bothered. Eventually, he did fall into a sleep filled with dreams of the men next door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Michael meet on the school bus. They hit it off instantly - but only because they're soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry sorry sorry  
> this has been waiting around for months to be posted  
> exams y'know

It's nearing one in the morning, but the three men still find themselves on the couch with a movie droning on. Ryan's resting up on the far side of the couch, just close enough that Jack can encircle the man's ankle with his hand. Geoff is leaning against the armrest, legs outstretched over Jack's lap so he can press his bare feet against Ryan's socked ones. All three of them were comforted by the contact, although there was still frustration settling over them like a blanket. 

"You're going to have to talk about it eventually." It's Jack who speaks, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the blaring action movie. Geoff stays focused on the movie, pretending he heard nothing outside of the dialogue. "Geoff." He curses lowly under his breath, because Jack knows him so well.

"I don't want to talk." Ryan responds before Geoff even has time to. They're both stubborn, although neither of them will admit it. 

"We have work tomorrow. Neither of you are going to bed angry." Jack's tired and he's thinking about going up to bed without them, but the reasonable side of him is insisting that he stays with his boys. So he ends up staying, hand now moving soothingly across Ryan's shin. He looks over to Geoff as he does so, and he can see that the man is breaking. A whole night without sleep would mean a whole day without any productive work, and Geoff isn't willing to get scolded by his boss another time. 

His tattooed arms cross over his chest and for the first time in the whole night, he makes eye contact with Ryan. "I'm not going to apologize for what I did. The kid was angry as dicks." 

It seems to be enough, because they can all practically see the tension lifting from the air. Ryan shuts down his laptop and scoots over closer to his mates, putting one arm loosely around both of their shoulders. 

"Want to head up to bed?" Jack asks, and Geoff eagerly follows. Ryan's heading up with them too, although he probably won't sleep. They don't often share the bed in the master bedroom, but tonight they do. They're all tangled up together, heads resting on chests and arms wrapped tight, but everyone feels the emptiness. 

"He was beautiful," Jack says to the darkness, to Ryan, because he could feel Geoff sleeping peacefully beside him. "'Was perfect, actually. I wish you could have met him."   
_

Michael's rest only lasts for only a few hours. He shifts himself into a sitting position, reaching over for his phone that had been resting on the nightstand. 

He's dialing Lindsay's number without even thinking about it. She's always the one there for him, and that's not going to change now that he's in Austin.

She picks up the phone, giving him a sleepy, "Hello?" Michael figures he's woken her up, but he doesn't even feel bad. This is important. Lindsay will forgive him.

"Talked to _them_." He murmurs, and he can almost hear her becoming more interested. "Assholes."

"But Michael!" She whines into the phone, sounding less sleepy than she was seconds ago. "They're your soulmates." She pauses long enough to let him give a scoff, and she responds with her own disapproving click of the tongue. "I'm being serious, Michael. You don't just fall in love with someone like that. You have to be theirs." 

"I'm not in love with them! Shut the hell up." He's practically yelling into the phone now, Lindsay laughing in the background. She may be his best friend, but she always has a way to get under Michael's skin. "Linds, you're a dumbass." 

"Okay." She says, but she's giggling. "I believe you, you're not in love." And she hangs up, leaving Michael shouting profanities in his phone, because _of course she wouldn't believe him._

He hangs up with a dissatisfied sigh, slamming the phone down on the nightstand where it once resided. 

Despite knowing he had to be up early tomorrow morning, Michael turned on his TV and Xbox, setting up for a long night of video games.   
_

The next morning, his mom appeared early in his room. She found him with his face buried in his bed, his right arm dangling over the edge, still gripping his controller. 

"Michael.." She sighed, touching him lightly on the shoulder. "I told you to go to bed early." His mother shook him, pulling him from his light sleep. Michael whined loudly, but pushed his face in his bed and tried to ignore her. When she continued to shake him, rougher and rougher, that proved to be nearly impossible. 

After getting up and convincing her that he wasn't going to go back to sleep, his mother finally left him alone. It was nearly six thirty, which means he'd have an hour to get ready and get to the bus stop that would take him to school. 

He pulls on his baggy jeans and his signature jacket. Maybe it's a bit much now that he's in Austin, but he isn't comfortable in anything but it. He does decide against the beanie though, because though he hates his curly hair, he doesn't want to get too overheated. 

Once downstairs, he can smell the food his mom is cooking. She offers it to him, but he shakes his head and instead grabs cereal and a bowl. She knows that there is no point in arguing with him about this, because he's just going to ignore her. 

An hour goes by quick, and then he's standing outside his house. The neighbor's car is gone, so he doesn't have to worry about an encounter with them. He walks past their house, cheeks flushing ever so lightly as he thought about what Lindsay had said. 

He stared for a few more seconds at their seemingly empty house, before taking a deep breath and walking past it. His destination was fairly close, but the short walk helped to clear his mind. 

There's a group of teens already gathered at the bus stop but Michael stays a couple of feet away from them. The bus is quick to arrive, exactly on time. He watches the group spread out all across the back and he takes his seat in the front, right behind the driver. The ride lacks air conditioning, so Michael takes off his jacket just as the bus jerks into motion. He settles back in his seat, running his hands over the wrinkles on his Fluttershy shirt. 

The boy in the seat lets out a fake cough that catches Michael's attention, and then he hears the words, "Fluttershy sucks." 

"Fuck off." He says, crossing his arm over the shirt, blocking the pony from the other boy's sight. He feels his anger rise when the boy starts to laugh at him. He's just about to start yelling when he's cut off. 

"I'm Ray Narvaez Jr., but you can call me Ray." Ray offers him a cheeky smile, an Michael can feel the corner of his lips pulling up in a returning grin. 

"Michael," he responds, holding out his hand for a shake. Their hands meet and they both shake enthusiastically, grinning in a silly manner. 

Michael doesn't miss the way that Ray's eyes trail to the R that sits on the back of his hand, and his cheeks flush slightly. "I have four of them," he admits, the words falling past his lips before he can even stop to think about them. 

Ray lets out a shaky sigh that causes Michael's attention to be placed on him. The next thing to come out of his mouth is an exclamation of, "holy shit." 

Michael's cheeks are so red now that the freckles can't be seen. He pulls his hand back, cradling it to his chest as though he had been hurt. Multiple sorry's are said, along with an, "I know it's weird." 

He's cut off, apologies being silenced by Ray's mouth instead. A strangled noise escapes him, but its captured by his friend's mouth. His hands find his shoulders, shoving hard until the other gets his point and pulls away from him. Michael's first thought after being freed is something along the lines of _what the fuck_ , but somehow he finds it turned into _holy crap I liked that._

All these thoughts are bubbling up in his head and they're ready to explode like word vomit, but the bus pulls to a stop at the school before he can say anything. He stands up, sputtering in a confused manner, but Ray's hand presses against his back and he's then being lead off the bus and onto solid ground. 

"Bye, soulmate." 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." 

All he gets in response is a shit-eating grin over the shoulder of a retreating male. 

And Michael is grinning back, because Ray is one of his goddamned soulmates and he's finally going to let himself be happy about his marks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't write ray i apologize greatly for this


End file.
